Childs Prayer

I kneel by my bedside, 

my mother sitting, patiently as I pray,

“Now I lay me down to sleep”,

I start, fumbling for words trying to remember,

“I pray the Lord my soul to keep”,

I’m four years, what is a soul, 

why would anyone keep it?, 

“If I should die, before I wake”, 


A cold darkness settles over, 

in the ceiling I see him,

the jester who stalks my dreams,

the dark one, 

seeking to take me away.

Flying down three flights of stairs,

out onto Congreve Street, 

a bumping through Fallon Field.

“I pray the Lord, my soul to keep”,

In the dark my eyes open, 

my heart races,

I run to the safety of their room,

I bury myself in the familiar smells,

Old Spice and Ivory Soap,

“God bless, mommy, daddy, sister, Grandpa, Grandma”,

The jester will not find me,

and on that night, 

as I nuzzle between the sentinels,

safe from the darkness,

I finally say, “Amen.”  

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